I’m pretty sure someone’s been attacking my calves while I sleep. Going at them like they’re punching bags.
I’ve got cats. It could happen. You don’t know.
I was gonna go to Punch and Body Pump classes again this morning. Because one of my kids that I haven’t seen in years was gonna be in town. And his momma was gonna make him go.
Because that’s how we reunite with people now.
Through physical fitness.
But Beautiful Beastie said I wasn’t allowed to go. Because Jarmans is tomorrow. And I should be doing something she called “resting and hydrating” today.
Don’t ask me. Maybe google it?
But since she’s absolutely the boss of me, I’m not going.
And I’ve gotta say, I’m not real upset about it.
Because yesterday was…a day.
I didn’t go to PFSF. Despite J-Vicious’s stalking behaviors.
Either he’s former CIA or his far superior half is helping him out.
Because when I said I wouldn’t make it to arm day because of work, he started investigating.
Which job, he asked. Because he’s smart enough to know that there are several.
Fearing that he is just vicious enough to actually call my boss and force them to send me to class, I would only offer up that I would be in Roanoke.
I have multiple jobs in Roanoke.
Then he sent a map.
A damn map.
With an exact location of two of my jobs.
What the hell?
This state is way too small.
So, I was kind of gonna go. Because I definitely don’t need the Muscular White Gut showing up at any of my jobs with a punching bag and making me cry- I mean do a six minute wall sit in front of my co-workers.
But then work became what work becomes when it’s insane.
So, I had to skip not only PFSF, but also Chaos Pub Run. One of my favorite times of the month.
Which is probably for the best.
Because I’ve been foam rolling and stretching and icing my calves since I got home last night. And they continue to stay tightened up like freaking softballs.
Maybe not softballs. My calves aren’t that big. But at least some nice-sized tennis balls.
Like for real. I think maybe someone has actually been using them as punching bags while I sleep.
Which seems like an odd thing to sleep through.
Even if it is cats doing it.
And when I got out of bed to go get the coffee this morning, I realized that they’ve also been using my hips in the same manner.
And my knees.
And possibly my quadriceps.
And maybe also my hamstrings…
I’m gonna go ahead and blame B-Major.
For the reasons I explained previously.
She apologized, by the way.
Which I appreciate.
Because she’s right. I feel like payback may need to come in the form of North Mountain…
Imma call Drinkwater and set that up for her.
As soon as I manage to separate myself from my foam roller.